


Love You (Oh, I Do)

by BabylonsFall



Series: Prompts [21]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/pseuds/BabylonsFall
Summary: Ezekiel and Jacob's first 'I love you's.(One perhaps has a little harder time than the other.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so I asked for fluffy Jazekiel prompts a little while ago, and the ever amazing [Roshwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roshwen/) prompted me with their various firsts. I chose only one for this one, but, hey, I might tackle the others as well at some point because they're great and fluffy.
> 
> (I did also get two other lovely prompts, that I promise I'm working on! I'm just slow at writing.)
> 
> Enjoy!

Ezekiel says it first.

To the surprise of...well, actually, no one.

He’s not necessarily _planning_ on saying it. But, one morning, months after they’ve started this slow revolution around each other - months after they took a leap, and crashed and stumbled back to their feet together - he finds himself in a strange scene, the likes of which he never pictured for himself.

He’d woken up to an empty bed - not the unexpected scene and not all that unusual since Jacob still had problems with the whole functional aspect of ‘sleeping in’, and, if an idea struck for the latest snag in his work, there was very little that would keep him in bed.

But, as far as Ezekiel knew, the latest manuscript had been submitted last week. And Eve had told everyone to take a day or two, depending on if something, somewhere decided to get a little more dangerously magical. And though he couldn’t see it with the curtains pulled shut, he could hear the heavy rain outside, sleeting down against the glass, and the rumble of distant thunder. He just knew, if he pulled the curtains aside, all he'd be able to see would be pale grey light streaking through too-dark water and his own reflection on the glass.

Mornings like this? Were meant to be spent in bed, curled up tight, and sleeping the day away.

The bed’s not cold, so Jacob hasn’t been gone for too long, but as far as Ezekiel’s concerned, on a morning like this, being gone _at all_ is a problem. So, reluctantly, he gets out of bed to go find his errant cowboy, stealing a discarded t-shirt on the way out (not his, the shoulders are too wide, but who cares).

It's not too hard to figure out where Jacob's gone. It's not like he's trying to be quiet.

Well, no. Correction.

He _is_ trying. He's just failing. And the smell of coffee would've given him away anyway.

So, Ezekiel follows the muffled cursing and the soft clinks of metal on metal to the kitchen, leaning in the doorway to take in what's sure to be an interesting sight.

He’s not disappointed.

There’s a coffee pot almost done brewing off to the side, two mugs set up in front of it. The small table - made of scrap wood of various colors that Cassandra had seen at a garage sale and basically told them it was theirs, no arguing - in the corner by the window is already set with plates and forks, and even with the storm raging outside (which is just as grey and dark as he’d thought it’d be), the set up looks homey and inviting for a reason he can’t quite put his finger on.

And then there’s Jacob. Hair sticking up every which way in an amazing impersonation of a hedgehog, a wrinkled t-shirt (that’s a little too tight across the shoulders) and a pair of plaid boxers. All of _that_ mess, standing in front of the stove, watching… pancakes. It’s the...fifth of the batch apparently, according to the small stack on a plate on the counter next to him.

He looks half-asleep, but with that bright glimmer to his eyes that tells Ezekiel he didn’t get enough sleep, and probably wouldn’t for awhile yet, and he’s so focused on the pan that he hasn’t actually noticed Ezekiel yet.

Ezekiel _almost_ feels bad about startling him. Almost. But if he’s being honest, the squeak he gets out of Jacob when he wraps his arms around his waist, and presses up against his back with no warning, hooking his chin over Jacob’s shoulder, is hilarious and he wishes he’d had a way to record it.

“Mm...morning, cowboy.” He mutters, shifting enough to press his face into the curve of Jacob’s neck because, surprise breakfast aside, it’s still stupid early, and now that he knows where Jacob went, he’s okay admitting he’s still tired.

Pressed as close as he is, he feels more than hears the rumble of Jacob’s laugh, and Ezekiel can’t help but tighten his arms slightly to feel more.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up yet…” He hears, soft and low, barely audible over the rain lashing against the glass. His voice sits heavy in the quiet, curling around the storm, settling into the cracks without breaking it further, without startling them both out of the morning’s haze and Ezekiel’s breath catches on something that feels almost painfully like…

_Oh._

“You were gone.” He mutters, voice muffled and just as quiet, staying where he is curled against Jacob’s back and tucked against his neck.

Jacob hums, the sound lost to a rumble from outside, but that’s okay. Ezekiel can feel it just fine.

“You awake enough for breakfast, or should I go ahead and give it up as a lost cause?” Ezekiel thinks it over for a moment. He’d have to leave his spot. But Jacob’s pancakes were amazing. He’d have to spend time getting comfortable in bed again, which he could totally do later because if Jacob thought for one second they weren’t going back to bed at the soonest opportunity, he had another thing coming. But pancakes were right there.

Instead of answering, he disentangles himself, genuinely mournfully (and obviously so too, if Jacob’s exaggerated eye roll is anything to go by). “Pancakes win. Barely.” He leans up to press a kiss to Jacob’s cheek - it’s such a cutesy move he never would’ve pulled even last year, but things like that tend to make Jacob blush like crazy and go all soft and squishy, so hey - “Love you,” he adds, as he swipes the stack of already made pancakes. Simple, but clear.

Anything stronger would shatter the morning. And, quite possibly, the man, now standing stock still at the stove, eyes wide and cheeks tinged red.

Ezekiel smiles slightly, pecking another kiss to his temple before heading over to the table. He doesn’t need to hear it back. Not yet. Not when Jacob spent a rough morning making breakfast and somehow made an ugly, rain-drenched corner look like a slice of home without even trying. And this was just a single moment between them.

“Pancake’s burning there, cowboy.”

It gets him a squawk, and a curse, and Jacob doesn’t quite manage to make it look natural, but it’s close. And the small, sheepish, but so, so sweet smile that’s sent his way a moment later, makes it worth it.

And oh, but Ezekiel loves him.

He does.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that took longer than expected whoops.
> 
> But, here's Jacob's try. Enjoy!

They left the window open.

After the spate of rainstorms the last couple of weeks, it had been all sunshine and gentle breezes - clear days and blue skies, warm sunshine and cool nights. It had only made sense, then, to leave the window open. To take advantage of the easy weather while they could before another storm could roll in and pull them away from the world.

It’s all Ezekiel’s been able to focus on since he woke up.

He’s not entirely sure _what_ woke him up, exactly, only that something had, and he hadn’t really. Felt the need to go back to sleep yet.

Their window’s not the biggest, and the curtains they have on either side shift enough with the wind that it’s almost impossible to get a clear view outside. But what Ezekiel can see is a stretch of dark sky, and if he squints, he can maybe imagine the faint impressions of stars through the golden haze of the streetlights that just barely stretch across his view. There’s traffic he can hear - the stop and start of an engine, the crunch of asphalt and gravel under tires - but its few and far between, and the denser noise from the highway is so muffled he can almost completely tune it out.

Back in his little slice of the city, he’s curled up close to Jacob, his head on the man’s chest, where he can hear the steady beat of his heart feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, and his arm curled loosely around his waist. Jacob’s arm is heavy around his shoulders. They didn’t fall asleep like this, but Ezekiel’s not too surprised. Jacob has a habit of getting up way too early, and the only way he’s found to curb that particular habit is to basically lay on him. The fact that Jacob makes an extremely comfortable pillow is just a bonus.

It’s about as perfect a night as they’re going to get in the city.

Which doesn’t explain why Ezekiel can feel Jacob purposefully keeping his breathing as slow and even as he can, can feel him holding himself still and stiff. A sure sign he’s been awake for awhile and doing his best not to wake Ezekiel up.

If Ezekiel wanted to, he could probably tip his head back and see Jacob glaring at the ceiling. Maybe out the window, though Ezekiel’s pretty sure he’d be more relaxed if that was the case.

If he listens hard enough, he can almost hear the gears in Jacob’s brain turning way too fast. Probably giving himself a headache at this point.

It’s not like Ezekiel doesn’t know _why_. It just makes him want to smack Jacob with a pillow is all. Get him out of his own head.

He’d been like this, in some form or another, all week. Fidgety, focused, worried.

When he’d first caught him, earlier that week, he’d been worried. And then he’d caught sight of the collection of sonnets that Jacob had tried to hide behind his back. It had taken a second to click, but when it had...well, Ezekiel had had to kiss the sheepish look off his ridiculous face before leaving him be.

He hadn’t really thought about how Jacob would say it back. It wasn’t something he was worried about, or something that needed to be addressed. If it happened, it would happen, and until then, as long as Jacob kept giving him these soft, sweet, oh so heartbreakingly _surprised_ smiles every time Ezekiel told him he loved him, he was going to keep doing it.

But it made sense. That Jacob, who was truly...awful wasn’t the word, but maybe confused, or...or not always in control with his own words - he needed a mask, a deflection or something to be passionate about to get past that block - would look for another way to talk. Ezekiel couldn’t say anything about it. He himself may not lie, but he was a master deflector in his own right, so, in a way, he got it.

But everyday, Jacob had had his nose buried in another book, each one more dramatic or obscure than the last, and Ezekiel could see him getting frustrated - not just with the books but with himself.

Yesterday he’d tossed a book off his desk. Not one of the Library’s, thankfully, but one of his own - an old, marked to hell thing that Ezekiel didn’t even know the name of because the leather binding was so worn. He was pretty sure if he looked inside, he probably wouldn’t even recognize the language.

And now here they were.

Window open, the world moving along around them in the quiet night, an air of tense silence in the room, and all Ezekiel wanted to do was smooth out the lines he just knew were carved in around Jacob’s eyes and mouth right now, even without looking.

He’s about to sigh, about to make some kind of noise to let Jacob know he’s awake and that they should probably talk about this, when Jacob’s fingers curl around his shoulder, gripping just a little harder, pulling him that much closer. He feels Jacob move under him, shifting enough to press a kiss to his hair, and he can’t do anything but melt, really. It’s just how things are.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” is whispered into the quiet, and Ezekiel can’t help but press a smile into his skin. So much for Jacob not knowing he was awake then. Go figure.

“So I know you know I’ve been looking for how to say this. No real point in trying to hide it, huh?” He continues, voice still little more than a rumble Ezekiel can almost feel more than hear. “But I don’t...I don’t think other people’s words work. Which really, really sucks,” and Ezekiel has to laugh, still muffled into Jacob’s chest, but he can almost _feel_ Jacob smile, so it’s fine.

The window may be open, the night clear and the stars bright far beyond the haze, looking down on the world. But in the quiet, with no one else around, and no one else’s words in his mouth, Jacob whispers “I love you,” into Ezekiel’s hair and Ezekiel presses a kiss over his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always loved and appreciated ^^


End file.
